


Mila

by StarTravel



Series: Defiance Through Tenderness [37]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Adoption, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Mentioned Kelas Parmak, Mentioned Miles O’Brien, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 10:43:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17979812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarTravel/pseuds/StarTravel
Summary: Julian and Garak continue to grow and prosper alongside Cardassia, and finally they both start to forge the future they want for themselves as much as the one they want for Cardassia.





	Mila

Julian basks as the sun warms his skin, each day spreading over him as though in an embrace. The thick Cardassian sand is hot beneath his feet, flakes of crimson and gold embedded between his feet and sticking to his legs. Julian sighs and spins around again, not able to keep the wide, jubilant smile off his face as he catches sight of Elim. 

 Elim, however is not smiling, lips pressed together in a tight line and ridges furrowed with worry. That won’t do, not on Julian’s first day outside in  _ months.  _ Julian saunters over to his side, entwining their hands together as he leans in to press their foreheads together. Elim gives him a flat look in return. “You probably should come inside at some point, my dear. Your federation sunscreen can only do so much when there are two suns to fight off.”

 “Elim, this is the first time I’ve been outside in nearly three months. I’m going to sit here and enjoy it.” Julian insists with a grin as he does just that, mostly bare legs collapsing into the warm sand below. The feeling is rough against his skin, reminding him a bit of sandpaper. Julian can’t even bring himself to care as he lets go of Elim’s hand to spread out on the ground instead. 

Elim makes a tutting sound deep in the back of his throat, shaking his head and muttering something under his breath Julian chooses to ignore. Elim lies down next to him anyway, leaning over to run a hand up his cheek and brushing against his temple. “You’re sweating and getting your skant covered with sand.”

 “You like sweat, God knows why when you’re such a neat freak about everything else.” Julian scoffs in a low voice, leaning in so he can nip at the one the ridges along Elim’s neck. It’s almost entirely exposed today, his black shirt cut low and fitted to his firm chest and soft stomach in a way that makes Julian want to take it off. Julian curls up against Elim’s side, letting his hand come to rest over the other man’s chest, bits of sand sticking to them both now. “And I’d rather sit here in a pool of my own sweat than spend another moment inside.”

 Elim gives him a look that makes it clear they’re nowhere near on the same page. Hell, Julian suspects that he might be in _Persuasion_ , while Elim is somewhere in the middle of the _Never Ending_ _Sacrifice_. 

Garak swallows tightly, something lonely and almost apologetic coming into his gaze. Elim closes his eyes as he opens his mouth, as though not seeing Julian will somehow make his words come out more easily. “Does it make you want to go back?”

 Julian blinks owlishly, wondering if the heat of the two suns is getting to him after all. He has no idea what Elim’s trying to say or why it’s brought that familiar look to his eyes, where he’s already resigned to being wounded. Julian sits up more fully, grasping Garak’s hand between his own as he feels his spine start to stiffen vertebrae by vertebrae. “Go back where?”

 “To Deep Space 9. To the Federation, where you don’t have these limitations.” Elim’s voice is barely above a whisper, eyes still closed and expression still. Still, there’s a ragged quality of fear to his voice that not even Julian can miss. 

 Julian can’t help smiling a little, gaze softening as he stares over at Elim. He’s not wrong. Julian’s life would be easier on Federation grounds, where the air is controlled and all the best scientific equipment easily available. He never would have had to make his food stipend last nearly a year between two people until Garak’s garden bared enough fruit for them both, never would have felt his skin burning and have to be carried back inside like some kind of bride in a Victorian novel. 

 And Julian wouldn’t go back for a second, not now when he’s making a real difference on Cardassia, when he and Elim are finally together in a way that feels permanent.

 “Not at all. It may have only been three months, but Cardassia is my home now. I want to stay here. I want to stay with you, wherever that ends up being.” Julian promises, leaning up on his elbows so he can hover over Elim. Eventually he opens his eyes, gaze at once surprised and delighted as he rests his hand on Julian’s cheeks. Then something sharp comes into his gaze as he opens his mouth in protest. “Don’t make that face, you know I know you’re never going to leave Cardassia.”

 Elim stares at him at him for a few seconds, gaze tender as he carefully sits up, taking Julian with him. He pulls his hands away, only to hold his palms out. Julian presses his own against them, both of them moving in time so Elim’s spoon presses against his own forehead. “You told me once that you weren’t one for marriage, Julian. Is there any chance I could change your mind about that?” 

 Julian swallows tightly, trying to push down the tears building in the back of his eyes as he presses his mouth to Elim’s, feeling the rough skin and curves of Elim’s spoon press against his skin. Julian wasn’t the marrying type once, but that’s before he met someone who saw all of him and didn’t back away. Now, with Elim, everything is different. “Sentimental old lizard. I suppose I could put up with it, for you.”

* * *

 

 Garak stares at the familiar glass walls with a rueful smile, rocking back and forth on his feet in an imitation of Julian when he’s  nervous or excited. Somehow Garak doesn’t find it calming in the least. He glances around the shop, familiar and alien to him all at once. Gone are the aisles of silk and finely woven cotton, no more dresses hanging artfully in the window.

  Instead he finds himself surrounded by handmade furniture, and can’t help the bittersweet feeling rising in his chest. Garak never loved this store, but it had been his and now it’s not. 

 Garak is pulled from his thoughts when a hand suddenly grabs his shoulder. He finds himself face to face - well not quite face with the teasing smile he’s only ever seen on a Dax. “You’re nervous. That’s adorable. You know he’s not going to leave, right?” 

 “How exactly did I end up with you as my Best Person again?” Garak asks without any real heat behind it, grinning crookedly as Ezri straightens her collar for what feels like the ninth time. Garak’s own shirt, a deep crimson silk, has no collar and no such problem. It’s never been custom for the serving class to wear collars at their wedding.

After all, they just got in the way when it was time to take the clothes off. 

 “Because you figured out that if Julian was leaving Cardassia, your mutual good friend Kelas couldn’t. You can’t expect a wedding on Deep Space 9 to go off without a hitch, Garak. Don’t you remember Worf and Jadzia’s?” Ezri reminds him with a teasing smile, one eyebrow raised as though she’s reliving the memory herself. She shakes her head a little, a small laugh escaping her throat. 

 Garak makes a tutting sound in the back of his throat, shaking his head a little as he pulls on the buttons on his sleeve. “If you’ll recall, I wasn’t invited.”

 “We both know you were and just decided to be a grouch and not come.” Ezri’s voice comes out teasing as she pokes him on the shoulder, gaze suddenly bright and playful in a way that reminds him more of the Dax in question. It’s gone after a second, a wistful expression coming over her face as she pulls her hand away. She looks almost guilty, biting her lip as though she’s about to make a confession. “Julian visited Jadzia while she was getting ready, you know.”

 Garak swallows tightly, though no jealousy comes to the surface like it might have years ago. He knows Julian was fully over Jadzia and fully in love with him by the time she married Worf. 

 No, what he feels now is almost but not quite guilt. He knows, and he thinks a part of Ezri knows too, that if the world was a better place, it would be Jadzia Dax in Quark’s with Julian and Miles, telling them stories about her own past marriages and handing them champagne. But the world is not fair, and Garak is happy that Ezri Dax is here. “Did he?” 

 “Yes, to make sure she was really happy with Worf. What’s nice about the two of you is that I don’t need to do that, and I don’t think Jadzia would have either.” Ezri smiles at him, gaze more knowing than her age should allow as she punches him on the shoulder. Suddenly he’s quite glad she’s here to fulfill this human tradition after all. 

 “Thank you, Ezri.” Garak’s voice is, for once, sincere as he grasps Ezri’s shoulder. Garak’s glad that she’s here on this day. Dax, in all its forms, has always been their biggest supporter. 

 “You’re quite welcome, Elim. Now, shall I walk you to the replimat?” Ezri holds her arm out at the same time she straightens her spine, a vision in the lavender suit she’d had Garak create for her. He couldn’t help noticing the trill she’s walked in with had a dress that matched the deeper shade of her best, cut from the same flowing Cardassian silk. Suddenly Ezri grins, shaking her head fondly as she peeks out the door and then shuts it just as quickly. “It’s bizarre that he thinks getting married at the table where you met is romantic.”

 Elim can’t help smiling fondly, shaking his head a bit as he remembers Julian excitedly bringing the idea to him. He’d spent hours that morning recalling with exacting - and at times quite embarrassing -detail every important lunch they’d ever had.

 Garak can’t help but think about the look in Julian’s eyes then, affectionate and ecstatic in a way they were only in snatches since the war. “Actually, I think it’s rather adorable, in its own way. Very Julian, if nothing else.”

 “I guess that’s why you’re marrying him instead of me.” Ezri answers with a chortle, but her smile is fine and warm as she peers out the door. She’s been a good friend to them both, these past few years. 

 Garak leans over and follows her gaze, to where Julian is rocking nervously back and forth on his feet next to Miles. He’s wearing the formal jacket of the Federation, crisp and white and only a bit ugly. But Garak’s made him new pants, a rich blue silk that sheens in the light of the replimat. Julian catches him staring and smiles just a bit too wide, eyes lighting up. “And aren’t I lucky?” 

 Ezri tilts her head in agreement, and then Garak is walking across the hall towards Julian, who's watching him with both awe and delight, movements almost clumsy as he makes his own way toward their old table. They don’t make it through the vows before they kiss. 

* * *

 

 Julian practically tackles Elim when he walks through the door from his morning shift, hands finding their way to his back as he guides him toward the bedroom. Elim goes easily, almost tripping over one of Julian’s shoes. Julian presses against him until Elim takes the hint and sits on the edge of their bed. Julian looks down at him, not sure if he wants to ravish or be ravished - but they have plenty of time for both. Because well. “We’re married.”

 “Yes dear, I was there yesterday on Deep Space 9 too. Quite nice of Miles to make it all the way out there.” Elim tells him as he wraps his arms around his waist, pulling his skant up slightly. Julian grins devilishly, pushing Elim back a bit so he can climb into his lap. Elim smiles and grips his hips tightly, pulling him closer on the bed. 

 “We’re married and on our honeymoon.” Julian lets out a contented sigh as he drapes his arms around Elim’s neck and kisses the ridges closest to his ear. Elim raises an eye ridge, letting out a warm chuckle as his own hands slide lower down. 

 “Julian, you worked a shift this morning. I don’t know if you could call this a honeymoon.” Elim reminds him in a soft voice as he cups his ass, squeezing the skin there and pulling a soft moan from Julian’s lips. Julian laughs at the same time, voice low and raspy as he starts kissing Elim’s chest again. They’d barely made it out of bed for work this morning, and now that they’re both free, Julian doesn’t plan on leaving it for several hours.

 “Does that mean that, once the town plaza and the hospital updates are finished, you’ll take me for a long weekend on Risa?” Julian asks between quick kisses, peppering them along the side of Elim’s jawline and then down towards his chest. He pulls away just enough to look up at Elim with a hopeful gaze, biting his lip in a way he hopes is enticing. 

 “Do you want to go back to Risa?” Elim asks with a bit of a scoff, cocking his head to the side. He raises an eye ridge, and Julian can almost see all the different images of their first few days there rushing through Elim’s memories.

The tears. The guilt. The truth serum. Leave it to Elim to remember all of that and not the amazing sex they had the last day there. 

 “I promise I won’t accidentally drink a truth serum this time.” Julian tells him with a wide grin when he catches a hint of amused concern in Elim’s eyes. Julian leans in and starts kissing the side of his neck again, mouth sliding across the familiar line of ridges as his hands clutch into the thin material of Elim’s shirt. He does so love how he can feel all the ridges through this one. “I think we should enjoy one last weekend of decadence before we settle in boring married life.”

 Elim snorts and pulls him closer, hands sliding down to cup his ass and knead the skin there. Julian swallows a moan, leaning in for another kiss only for Elim to pull away at the last second. Tease. “Somehow I don’t think life with you will ever be boring. Why Risa though? Don’t you think we should go somewhere new, or at least new for one of us?”

 Julian’s eyes widen as he stops kissing Elim’s neck to look up at him instead, not quite able to keep the surprise out of his gaze. It’s not that he never thought Elim would go with him there, he just hadn’t thought it would be this soon or for  _ this _ . “Is this your way of saying I can finally show you Earth?”

 “Will you actually spend time with me there or just ignore me to play games with Chief O’Brien?” Elim asks in amusement, raising an eye ridge pointedly. Julian laughs low in his throat, the sound sending waves of vibrations across Elim’s skin that make the other man gasp, grip tightening on Julian’s ass.

 “Fair enough. Where do you suggest then?” Julian asks in a voice that’s more like a purr. He licks one of the ridges along Elim’s chest and wonders if he even needs a honeymoon rather than staying in this bed for three days. They could even use the couch or the kitchen counter for variety. 

 “The Cardassian spas.” Elim suddenly kisses the side of his neck, gaze hooded and full of promises as he runs his hands up and down Julian’s back, hands somehow sending him chills even through the skant. “I figured you could give me more of your private massages there.” 

 Julian can’t help raising an eyebrow, though sliding his hands down Elim’s back and pulling their hips closer together. As much fun as those spa holoprograms had been on Deep Space 9, Julian rather likes being alive. “Would I be able to enter one without fainting? That would put a bit of a damper on the romance, darling.”

 “I can rent out one of the low heat ones.” Garak murmurs as he holds Julian in place, one hand on his hip and the other still on his ass. Elim gives it a playful squeeze, something sharp to his gaze as he tugs Julian closer suddenly. “After all, I do so want to see you experience true Cardassian hedonism before we settle down into being boring.”

 “Mmm, I take it back. You could never be dull.” Julian promises before he leans down, Elim following suit until he’s lying on top of him on the bed. Then Elim starts to pull his skant further up and Julian almost forgets about the word dull even existing. 

* * *

 

 Garak watches Julian coo at the infant that’s spent all of her time in either his or Julian’s arms for nearly a week now, swaddled in a lavender blanket. She’s an orphan, one of the more recent lost souls discovered on Cardassia. She’s too young to be a victim of the massacre that happened two and a half years ago, barely larger than a newborn. 

But then she’s not fully Cardassian either, so his guess for her size might be wrong. Her bright hazel eyes are nearly the exact same shade as Julian’s and her skin is more of a cinereous than a pure grey. Her ridges are smaller as well, more delicate than any infant he’s seen, though still clearly visible. She has a tuft of curly black hair on her head.

 She is, as far as he’s concerned, perfect. Every time he looks at her or catches her wide, curious eyes staring at him and Julian, smiling and making giggling sounds every so often, his heart fills with warmth. She even knows how to wrap her tiny hands around their fingers and the edge of their hair. He thinks she’s very clever.

Garak knows Julian thinks so too, telling all the nurses everything she’s done, from when she first grabbed Garak’s hand to the way her eyes light up whenever she sees the color purple. He’s barely talked about anything but their baby in days, and Garak can’t say he’s wanted to talk about much else either.

 But if they’re going to carry on like this, feeding the baby and watching her sleep and keeping baby monitors on them, they need to talk. Garak swallows tightly as he walks over to stand closer to them. He tries to push down at least a little of the hope burning in his chest. 

 Garak knows how Julian fears fatherhood, and he has no idea if falling into it for a week will be enough to change his mind. If not, Garak will learn to live with it. “You haven’t left her side in over three days, except to treat other patients.”

 “Hmm? Neither have you.” Julian murmurs dismissively, gaze never leaving the baby’s face. He makes a soft cooing sound in the back of his throat, gaze doting in a way Garak’s never seen before. 

 Garak takes a few steps toward him, reaching his own hand out. Garak can’t help smiling crookedly when the baby reaches out and wraps her tiny hand around his index finger. “Is that why you’re hovering around here? Jealous I’m paying so much more attention to his formerly sick baby than you?”

 “No more than wondering if the reason is because you’re getting rather attached.” Garak admits as he bends over to press a kiss to Julian’s cheek. He glances down at where their baby - and he shouldn’t think of her that way, not yet - still holds onto his finger, babbling to herself. Garak lets himself hope. 

 “Don’t be ridiculous, I’ve told you a number of times I’m not the type for fatherhood.” Julian’s voice has almost no conviction in it this time though, hints of regret coming into his gaze brings the baby closer to his chest. Julian looks up at him with watery eyes, and Garak can’t quite hide the way his throat catches at the sight. So there’s hope yet. “Besides, I can’t go outside for three months of the year. What if the house set on fire or got filled with poison gas while you weren’t home?”

 Garak swallows a little, because it’s a fair concern. Julian can’t be left home alone with her, at least not until she’s old enough to walk out the door by herself. There are too many dangers in the only half-tamed Cardassia. “I could add an office to our house. We are getting two new rooms from your lovely federation stipend in a few weeks.”

 “So you’d take her out and leave me there to die?” Julian asks playfully raising an eyebrow and shaking his head a little, and if it wasn’t for the baby in his arms, Garak sure he’d be clutching his chest. Then Julian glances back down at the baby, expression almost painfully tender. “I can’t say I’d blame you.”

 “How old is she?” Garak asks as he kneels down, carefully trying not to dislodge the baby’s hand from his own. Garak doesn’t quite manage, her hand pulling away and her face wrinkling up for a few seconds. Garak waits for her to cry, but then Julian starts rocking her back and forth, humming lightly, and her face smooths out.

 “Three months.” Julian answers between bars of the song he’s humming, which Garak swears he’s heard him sing drunkenly with Chief O’Brien at least once. Then Julian smiles crookedly, a touch of sheepishness to his gaze. “Half-human and Half-Cardassian.”

 “I guessed by her eyes, they’re the same shade as yours.” Garak murmurs in an impossibly soft voice, feeling something in his chest clench a bit when she yawns. Her little fists ball up, and Julian makes the same cooing sounds as before. “We could call her Mila, if you were the type for fatherhood.”

 “Mila Jadzia.” Julian says softly, holding the baby and looking at her with a sudden understanding. Garak feels his heart swell, hand shaking as he grips both arms of the chair to steady himself. He is home and he has a family and Tain can do nothing to take it away from him.

Garak leans forward and presses a kiss first to Julian’s forehead and then to his new daughter. “Mila Jadzia.”

 They bring her home a month later. Julian insists on showing her the garden, where Garak’s trees are finally starting to bloom.

**Author's Note:**

> And so we come to an end! Thank you so, so much to everyone who has read this series. I had such a great time writing it and exploring this storyline. I can’t wait to explore new stories for Julian and Garak and the rest soon. 
> 
> Comments and questions are loved!!


End file.
